Set The Fire To The Third Bar
by PlatinumAndPercocet
Summary: 'After I have traveled so far, we'd set the fire to the third bar. We'd share each other like an island, until exhausted, close our eyelids' Sometimes, the last person we should want is the only person that we need, a lesson Andy McNally is learning the hard way.
1. The Distance from 'A' To Where You'd Be

**What I own: Some amazing hooker boots, a vast pen collection and more make-up than one woman should.**

**What I don't: Rookie Blue. I KNOW! They belong to Tassie Cameron, et al. If I did, I would be living somewhere OTHER than where I am. I'm not making a penny off this work of fiction, and I promise I will return the characters, relatively unscathed, when I am done. I also don't own Set The Fire To The Third Bar, that belongs to Snow Patrol and Martha Wainwright, but I do sing it… A LOT.**

**Rated M for fucking language and eventual adult situations. If you can't vote or buy smokes where you are from, then you can't read my words either. **

**Author's Note: Hi! It's me again! This isn't a new story, per se, I just pulled it over here from my other profile, so it may seem familiar to a few of you. I'm keeping the designation between my writing very specific and want my Rookie Blue stuff to stay strictly that. Same general concept though, cause it is how I roll, a peek into the future before diving head first into the actual story. Just a quick glimpse this time though. More questions than answers at first but it will make sense eventually, I promise. Reviews will be rewarded with praise, love and a sneak peek at a future chapter. Enjoy!**

"Ice Queen."

The words were mock whispered, from some stool at the corner of the bar, slightly slurred from too many beers, and with a hint of bitter laughter but they still stung. Freezing for an instant, I closed my eyes in a moment of silent contemplation before heading out the door with nary a word to any of my coworkers.

The night air held a chill and a light rain had begun to fall since the end of the shift as I wandered along the streets. My feet seemed to move of their own volition, Chucks slapping against the wet asphalt. I didn't even realize where I was going until I arrived, didn't give even a second thought as I ran up the stairs of the bungalow and rapped on the door. It was nearly one AM and the windows were dark. What the hell was I doing?

Leaning against the railing, I wrapped my arms around my torso, my hair was plastered to my face and neck, the sloppy bun no match for the rain and wind. My jeans and over-sized white V-neck t-shirt clung to my frame, dripping into a puddle at my feet. I could feel the familiar weight of my gun in its holster on my hip, the weight of my badge casually shoved in my back pocket. I couldn't make heads or tails of what, exactly, had brought me here of all places, by all reports the LAST place that I should be. I was about to step off the porch again when I heard the door crack and a dim light spilled out of the door, casting a glittering reflection in the water that pooled on the granite steps.

Spinning, I caught sight of him; my eyes wide as I took in his sculpted form, nearly naked save a pair of navy pajama pants slung low on his hips. His hair, never entirely presentable to begin with, stuck up in all directions and his eyes were hazy with sleep as he finally realized who I was. His attire, or lack of it, was nothing new; I had seen him in far less on countless occasions in the locker room, but this seemed more… real, somehow. So much more intimate. There were no sterile metal lockers, no layers of Kevlar and navy cotton just inches away, no buzz of conversation and absolutely no coworkers.

Just as he opened his mouth to speak, I launched myself across the small porch, my small, wet hands resting on his warm chest. Unprepared for my near assault, his sleepy murmur of my name was muffled against my lips as I pressed them against his, my arms sliding easily around his neck. His thumbs hooked in my belt loops as his hands tightened on my hips.

I could feel him, his warmth, his strength, through my chilled, wet clothing as we kissed. The moment was far from sweet, in fact it was quite the opposite: frenzied and needy and raw and hungry and he tasted like spearmint tooth paste. I swear I could even smell the clean scent of his soap under the crisp scent of the rain that covered me.

A thumb brushing against a tiny sliver of skin above my waist band where my sticky shirt had ridden up in my haste, tugged me out of my reverie and I pulled back, chest heaving as I struggled for breath. My cheeks were flushed, I could feel it and I'm sure my eyes were bright as I met his, twinkling with… something in the dim light.

Twisting out of his loose grasp, feeling the calloused fingers just barely graze across that same small, sensitive, exposed sliver of skin and gave him a small smile and a playful salute as I back towards the stairs, my gaze not dropping from his until I saw him smile, his dimples making a relatively rare appearance of late.

Satisfied, I turned and hopped down the steps, content to just head back home despite my whirling mind. One word stopped me in his tracks, his tone somehow teasing and sensual at the same time, both a statement and a question. "McNally?"


	2. Over Rivers, Farms and State Lines

**What I own: Three… errr, two packs of frozen fun sized kit kat bars, a yellow lace and chiffon sun dress and a purple vaccum cleaner. **

**What I don't: Rookie Blue. I know, it's a shock. I'm not making any money from this work of fiction, and I promise to return the characters unharmed once I'm done with them. **

**Author's Note: So, yeah, I wrote some more. It is short, but there is a reason for that, I promise. Y'all are seriously blowing me away here with your support. I keep saying I'm gonna focus on something else but… nope. More words. This is, un-surprisingly, still not beta'd. I know this is probably going to cause more questions than answers but that is how it is supposed to be right now, I promise that it will make sense eventually. I hope. I think. If I said trust me, would you? Cause it will all be explained in due time. Reviews will be rewarded with praise and sneak peeks of the next chapter because y'all are awesome and deserve it. Questions? Comments? Just wanna chat? Hit me up over on twitter or via PM, I am LITERALLY always around. Unless I am sleeping but that is going to be a luxury I start losing again soon. **

Thomas Wolfe once said 'You can never go home again.' Well, I hate to say it, but Mr. Wolfe was wrong on this count. Slouched behind the wheel of my jeep, I eyed the brick and glass building before me wearily, behind my sunglasses, in a silent battle of wills as though my glare was going to fix everything. This had been home once, what felt like a lifetime ago and I was definitely here again.

I watched as faces, both familiar and un, streamed in through the doors, bags casually slung over shoulders and coffee in hand. My own cream and green cup was clenched in a death grip between my hands, the cinnamon flavored cream with coffee added doing little to soothe my frazzled nerves.

I had walked out of 15 Division three years ago once my probation was up with nary a word to anyone, and dropped off the radar, sending my fellow rookies an occasional post card or e-mail, Christmas presents and birthday cards when the times came but other than that, nothing. My reasons were many, and my story my own, though I still wasn't ready to share it, not yet. Draining the dregs of my caffeine, I straightened my hair as best as I could in the rearview and smoothed my skirt. This is as good as it's going to get.

It was time to go back.

The whispers were the first thing that caught my attention. I wasn't stupid, I knew what they were saying, despite the half-hearted attempts to keep it quiet, hell I probably wouldn't have either if I had been on the other end of the gossip mill. Second generation cop completes probation and then just vanishes only to pop up three years later as a detective? Yeah, the rumor mill was running rampant from the second I walked into the station.

There was no disguising the looks of surprise on the faces of many of my former, and soon to be current co-workers, and I'm fairly sure I got my share of double takes, and I'm pretty sure Dov choked on his coffee.

'Some things never change.' I couldn't hide my laugh as I descended the stairs, feeling slightly out of place in my dark grey dress and heels, surrounded by the navy uniforms of my friends. Warm hugs, simple pleasantries, and promises to catch up were quickly exchanged. I had almost forgotten how much this place felt like home, it would be so very easy to slip right back to that same role that I had walked out of, but I couldn't not yet, not again.

'All right, all right people, I know it's good to have McNally back, but, unless I'm mistaken, parade starts in two minutes.' Although her words seemed stern, there was a warmth in Noelle's voice, and I returned her smile as I followed the sea of navy uniforms into the parade room.

It felt strange, leaning against the wall as opposed to seated at the tables, as I listened to the proceedings, giving it half my attention. My gaze roamed easily over the room, taking in the familiar faces, Gail, Tracy, Dove, Chris, Oliver and Noelle, among a few others, and making note of the unfamiliar ones, as well as any who were missing.

The absence of Swarek was almost palpable in the small room, and I kept raking my eyes over the gathered crowd, hoping against hope that I had just missed him. We hadn't spoken since just before I'd left, in fact he was the last person from 15 that I talked to before I took off, and he was also the only one I'd not been in some kind of contact with, and, at the same time, the one person I wanted to talk to more than anything but I just… couldn't. The reasons were almost endless, and about as flimsy as a piece of tissue. Excuses were so easily made, time passed and things changed. I changed, in more ways than one, and I took that as an easy way out, I allowed myself to believe all of my easy little lies, and where had it gotten me? I squeezed my eyes closed against the onslaught of memories that threatened to resurface, and gently pinched the bridge of my nose between my fingers, willing away the headache that was already threatening to form. I needed more caffeine, immediately. As it was, I was only half listening to Noelle's speech and as soon as I heard the familiar slogan start, I slipped from the room, my head down.

I moved through the station on autopilot, the rich scent of coffee permeating the air as I headed towards the coffee station, lost in the thoughts that raced through my mind. Everything from weather or not I had unplugged the iron that morning to what I needed for my desk was pulling my attention in every direction and I didn't notice the person in front of me until I literally crashed into them, stumbling backwards till my ass hit the tiled floor. My hair tumbled out of its loose clip atop my head and in front of my face. Groaning in frustration, I reached for the proffered hand, standing and brushing my skirt off before pushing my unruly curls out of my eyes.

'I'm so sorry about-' My voice died off almost instantly as I met a pair of familiar dark eyes, the large hand still clasped around my own suddenly almost insanely warm. Memories flashed, rapid fire through my mind: A clumsy take down in a dirty alley, chasing an escaped killer through the woods, fixing plumbing for a grieving mother, ridiculously failed hooker detail, the way those hands felt as they slid over my ribs. No. NOPE, not going there. I dropped his hand quickly, cursing the blush that I knew flooded my cheeks and I stumbled for words.

'Sam.' it was the first thing I could say, the only thing that my mind could process at the moment, as I stood there paralyzed by his gaze. A million thoughts swam through my head, all 'what ifs' and 'why not's', apologies and explanations, pleas for forgiveness and an indescribable need to throw my arms around his neck. His gaze was hypnotizing, as it had always been and I couldn't look away in spite of myself.

The slap of heavy boots against tile pulled my attention away and I glanced quickly over my shoulder at the sea of uniforms filing out of the parade room, and when I turned back to face him, the moment, whatever it was, had passed.

'Welcome back McNally.' The words were cold and distant, accompanied by a small, tight smile before he turned his back and walked away. I felt somehow, like I was being dismissed despite still standing there.

Shaking my head, I took a deep breath and quickly made myself a cup of coffee, dumping in copious amounts of milk before taking a small sip and straightening my spine before heading up the stairs to the detective's offices, my stomach dropping as I caught sight of Sam Swarek leaning against an empty desk, a familiar, rakish grin on his face, the same one that had so easily cause my pulse to race three years ago. Shit, I was in so much trouble.


	3. Like Music To Me

**What I own: More thank tops than any one person can ever need, A tube of Kaylee Frye inspired strawberry lip balm that I treasure, and a stack of Birchboxes**

**What I don't: Rookie Blue. They aren't mine folks, I just like to play with them and twist them to my will. It's a GREAT sandbox to play in though, really. I'm not making anything off of this little tale.**

**Author's Note: This took on a life of its own… I thought I knew where it was going and then, NOPE! McNally decided that was not to be. I KNOW this is still confusing, but it will make sense eventually. I hope. I think. I'm crossing my fingers. This hasn't been beta'd so all the mistakes and shifty tense is ALL MINE. MINE MINE MINE. I'm greedy about my mistakes, I claim them like whoa. I'm scared as hell about this because Gail reasons… I love her and hope I did her justice. I am humbled by all your support and seriously do a little happy dance at every review and alert… I'm pretty sure that my cat judges me each and every time. I PROMISE some answers in the next chapter… and hopefully y'all won't have to wait forever for it. Reviews make me smile like a movie star and are rewarded with sneak peeks and TONS of random babble. Questions? Comments? Music suggestions? I can always be found on twitter and LOVE to chat.**

The day had gone more or less exactly as expected, Lots of paperwork, lots of filing, lots of questions and lots and lots of coffee. I hadn't realized quite how dependent I had become on the beverage again until I ran out for the third time and ended up snapping a pencil in frustration. The low chuckle from the door drew my attention and I whipped my head around, my frown quickly falling away as I saw the cup of steaming coffee in Sam's hands. Jumping up, I almost bounded across the small room and grabbed it from his hands with a grin.

'Bless you.' The words were tossed over my shoulder with a smile of thanks, as I headed down into the bullpen, in search of Gail. The petite blonde officer and I, while not exactly best friends when I'd left, had grown surprising close and I had a few questions I was dying to have answered before I left.

My eyes wandered over the mess of desks as I leaned against the banister. It was amazing how much had changed in three years and yet, at the same time, how much they stayed the same. This building had played a pivotal role in so many different aspects of my life and from the first time I had set foot here with Dad at ten years old. I had fallen in love with it then, before I even knew what it was about. I had decided, in all the infinite wisdom that only a ten year old can have, right then and there that I would be a police officer, here at this station. Little did I know how prophetic that would prove.

There was a certain unexplainable draw about it here that sense of camaraderie, of brotherhood, of… family. And that was something that I was sorely lacking for many of my formative years. Tommy had done his best, of course he did, but after Claire left things just weren't the same.

My mind drifted for a moment, a simple moment of self-indulgence that I usually fought, especially while at work. I didn't need the distractions, not here and especially not today. The way things had been when I left, to say nothing of the circumstances surrounding my sudden departure, well, I had pretty much set myself up for a difficult reentry into the family here, as it were, but I did what I had to do. The choice wouldn't have been my first one, but it was one that had been made for me, that I couldn't say no to, despite everything. And I hadn't. Did I regret it? Sometimes. Would I have done things differently if I'd had the chance? No, not for an instant. An all too familiar chuckle reached my ears and I had to fight the urge to turn around. Sam. I would have handled that differently. Hell, I would have handled it at all.

Time can be a great equalizer, or so they say. For me, the last three years had put things into a shockingly realistic perspective. Just being here, surrounded by people who knew me before, knew who I had been, was sobering enough. Trying to balance that knowledge of the young, naïve girl that I had been with who I had become, well, that seemed downright impossible.

When I left, I had every intention of leaving everything here behind. But the best laid plans of mice and men, well… they never work out as intended. The only person that I had truly left behind was the same one that I wanted, desperately, to hold on to.

Squeezing my eyes closed, I shook my head as if to physically dispel the thoughts that were swimming around in my head. Taking a sip of my coffee, I caught a glimpse of a familiar blonde head rounding a corner and dashed across the large space in pursuit.

"Gail, wait up." My petite friend stopped in her tracks, though didn't turn around.

"I'm sorry did you need something, Detective McNally?" Her voice was even and cold, to most people it would probably be dripping with disdain, but I barely hid my laugh as I passed her, turning to walk backwards and catching the smile on her ridiculously immaculately painted lips. All these years and I STILL didn't know how she pulled that off.

"I'm doing fine, thanks. It's wonderful to see you too, and yes it HAS been too long." I rattled off the more than just a bit sarcastic answer as I fished in my pocket, quickly unlocking the door to interview two and pushing it open. "Yes, I need to talk to you." I waved her in with an exaggerated gesture, and received an eye roll in return.

Closing the door behind me, I collapsed on the couch, the opposite of gracefully and turned to Gail. "How bad is it out there, really?"

"Not pulling any punches today, huh?"

"Nope, no reason to. I just want to know what I am up against here Gail. Maybe do some preemptive damage control if I can." She was silent for a moment but I could almost see the gears turning in her head, and caught a flash of compassion behind her steely blue eyes as she relaxed against the ugly pink chair she was perched on.

"You know people talk. I'm pretty sure the only place gossip flies faster than a police station is a hospital. They talked when you left and they are talking even more now that you're back. People are curious Andy, they want to know what happened, weather it is their business or not." As blasé as the words seemed, I knew that they were true. Gail Peck was nothing if not honest about everything, that was pretty much her personal code.

"Andy. You vanished. Everybody had a theory, everybody had questions. Hell, if I hadn't run into you when I did, I'd be throwing my ideas into the pool as well." Her easy smile hid the gravity of the words and I dropped my head into my hands, tugging my fingers through my hair.

"What are they saying?" It was more than a double edged question, and I couldn't force myself to look at Gail as I asked it, forcing instead on my shoes as if they were the most interesting things I had ever laid eyes on.

"You really want to know that now?" Try as she might, Gail couldn't hide the slight mischief in her voice.

"No! No. Not now, tonight though? Wine, maybe some pasta? You can catch me up on what I missed?" I had no shame over using Gail's downfalls against her in order to get the information I was seeking, I was honest about it. Besides, it didn't count as bribery of it was a mutually beneficial arrangement.

"You drive a hard bargain Detective, but you've got yourself a deal." Hopping out of the chair with an almost feline like grace, she flashed me a dazzling smile and headed for the door, glancing over her shoulder. "Make sure you have an extra bottle of pinot noir and the spare room available… it's going to be a VERY long night." A quick wave of ridiculously well-manicured fingers and she was out the door in a flash.

I sat for a few moments just staring at the door that was now closed and fought to compose myself as much as I could before heading back out there. I wasn't falling apart. No tears shone in my eyes, my hands were still as opposed to shaky, I had come miles from when I was last here, but that didn't stop my from worrying.

I could hide my neurosis and doubt from almost anyone. I had questioned murder suspects and serial rapists with an almost shocking calm. 'Unflappable' was the exact word my partner in Vancouver had used. It was true, I'd had to learn that over the years or I wouldn't have been able to get to where I was. It seemed so easy on the surface, just tuck your emotions and feelings into nice, neat pretty little boxes, and leave them on the shelf until you can safely take them down.

It worked for me because I made it do just that. But then again, he wasn't in Vancouver. The one person who would always see through me, who knew what was going on behind my carefully constructed mask, who had, somehow, been able to work past the walls that I had built right from the very beginning. Someone who I had to work with, side by side every day for who knows how long.

I came back to try and make sense of myself, the decisions I had made, to regain that sense of loss that had been hauntingly pervasive since I had walked out those doors three years ago. I had fooled myself into thinking that it would be easy, that I could keep things locked inside. Come in, put in my time and go home.

That idea had been shot to shit at first glimpse of that dimpled smile. Taking a deep, steadying breath, I stood and adjusted my skirt, smoothing the lux fabric. I could do this. I had too.


	4. Ghosts With Just Voices

**What I own: A bunch of costume jewelry that I never wear, a bright orange colander and way to many belts for one person.**

**What I don't: Rookie Blue. That belongs to Tassie Cameron et, al. I do however own the first three seasons on DVD and am waiting the opposite of (im)patiently for season four. I'm not making any money off this and am just having fun playing you her sandbox. I promise I will return everybody when I am done, although they might be a little dirty.**

**Author's Note: ANSWERS! I know, I'm surprised too. I am still just awed by all your reviews and alerts, I do a happy dance every time one comes in, for real. I'm pretty sure that Miss Josie Jane Kitty judges me every time. I'm okay with that. So, as usual, this hasn't been beta'd… only partially because I haven't begged Janeycakes to read this one as well… I hope that it answers some of your questions and isn't overly confusing. Flashbacks are in italics, as always. Reviews make me smile like a movie star and are rewarded with sneak peeks of the next chapter. Questions? Comments? Just wanna talk? I'm ALWAYS on twitter. Happy reading and I hope you all enjoy!**

If someone had told me three years ago that Gail Peck, of all people, would be the one I turned to when I needed a friend, I probably would have said they were certifiable. It's funny how much time can change things.

The dirty dishes were stacked neatly in the dishwasher and barely touched Tiramisu mousse sat beside the nearly empty bottles of wine on the coffee table. I had almost forgotten how nice it was just to talk to someone. Granted, I'd had people around constantly in Vancouver, but it wasn't the same somehow. There was always noise, someone yelling, needing help, even just the steady beep of the machines, there was never any real down time, and I was okay with it. I kept myself at a distance from everyone for so long, kept the walls up as long as I could for fear of them completely falling down that I nearly forgot how to feel.

When everything had finally fallen down, when my world, as fragile as it was, had finally crumbled, I had itched to call just one person, the same person that I hadn't even spoken to since I had left. Those eyes had haunted me, in my dreams, while I was awake; there wasn't any difference. My finger had lingered over that name in my phone so many times and it had taken all of my considerable willpower to NOT make that call.

I had kept in sporadic touch with Traci and even Dov and Chris when I first left, and I was okay with that. Weekly e-mails, the occasional call every few weeks filled with pleasant, if slightly stilted small talk, mostly on their end. I wasn't really eager to share the intimacies of my new life with anyone, and I knew that my friends could pick up on that.

That all changed almost seven months to the day after I left when I literally crashed into Gail in a hospital elevator, of all places.

_I hated hospitals, I always had though I couldn't pinpoint why. It could have been the smell, that nose stinging, antiseptic smell that could never be associated with anything other than illness, injury and death. There was always such a sense of dread associated with them, at least for me. Going to the hospital had never been a positive thing for me, as far back as I could remember. When I was ten and fell while I was roller skating, breaking my left wrist, I'd needed a cast for nearly three months, the entirety of my summer vacation. When I was sixteen and my dad had gotten in his first DUI, seeing him in that bed, bandages on his head and his leg in traction. There were more visits through the years, of course, but they were faded and murky, the memories just flashes, of random moments in time: fevers and cuts, tumbles down the stairs. Never anything serious, fortunately, until now. _

_The heels of my boots echoed along the quiet corridor and I was oddly aware of exactly how much noise I made just walking. It was so quiet, the beep of machines and shuffle of paper accompanying that low, almost inaudible buzz of the nurses talking. And it was cold, ridiculously so, and clutching my thin cardigan around my shoulders did little to ward off the chill. The omnipresent smell hung in the air, of course, stinging my nose and nearly making my eyes water. _

_I'd been in Vancouver for seven months and it still felt like it was just yesterday that the call came that turned my world upside down. The decision had been impulsive, no doubt but it was what I needed to do. Despite Claire's absence when I'd needed her the most, the almost upsetting ease with which she just slipped out in the middle of the night with nothing so much as a note, I couldn't do that. I couldn't pretend that I didn't care, no matter how much I'd wanted to. I'd gotten settled quickly, though not necessarily easily. I'd been lucky and had secured a position at one of the local police precincts in very little time, throwing myself into my work. I loved my job but it wasn't the same, not at all and I purposefully kept people at arm's length, because I had to. _

_Every day was the same, for the most part and the monotony would have driven me crazy at one point, I reveled in it now. Wake up, get Laura and Logan ready and off to school and head to work. Put in eight hours, stop by the hospital when I clocked out and then home for dinner, homework and bedtime. It was strange, this new life, thrust into the role of guardian for the twelve year old siblings I didn't even know I'd had while our mother lay in a hospital bed, comatose. _

_That day was no different, the kids were at a late basketball practice and I'd had a bit of extra time at the hospital. I'd dropped off some cookies that the kids had helped me make, a small token of thanks to the nurses who had always been so patient with us, and was paying more attention to the phone in my hand as I walked off the elevator than to who may have been in front of me. I didn't even see them until it was too late to stop the inevitable collision. _

"_Damn!" The voice was one that I recognized, and it immediately sent a chill down my spine just before I met wide blue eyes, and I could actually see as realization dawned. "Andy?" _

_Seeing Gail Peck at a loss for words was something not many people could say that they witnessed, ever, not and lived to tell about it, at least not without being on the receiving end of her scathing wit. The story had spilled out over the course of an hour and countless cups of mediocre coffee, tucked in a small table in the corner of the hospital cafeteria._

_Once I had started talking, I couldn't stop though I did manage to keep the tears at bay, for a while at least, and somehow kept my questions at bay, for that visit at least. Gail had been quiet for most of the hour, listening and absorbing the vast amount of information that I was dumping on her, though I could see the questions behind her eyes, the sadness when I had told her about Claire's accident and the utter shock when I had told her Laura and Logan. _

_That day had cemented our friendship, as unexpected as it was, and she had returned to Vancouver every few months after that initial run in, sometimes to visit her aunt but more often staying with the twins and me at Claire's house. Against all imaginable laws of both God and man, Gail bonded with my brother and sister in an almost disturbing way, playing video games with Logan and shopping with Laura while I took advantage of some much needed down time. _

_We talked about everything during her visits, and she kept me posted on all of the goings on at 15, with one glaring exception: Sam Swarek. I couldn't bring myself to ask after him, not and stay casual about it, and she didn't bring him up, not once weather out of respect for me or him, I didn't know. _

_The day Claire had finally passed, Gail was the second person I had called after Tommy, and they both headed out as soon as they could. It had taken two years of hospitals and nurses. Two years of throwing myself into work and gaining a much desired promotion. Two years of report cards and homework, after school sports and summer camps. Two years of medicine and in home care before she finally gave in, the new bout of pneumonia no match for her weakened system. She had died at home, which was what she wanted, at least according to the papers in her lockbox, and I was holding her hand. _

_I didn't cry, not immediately, I couldn't, not yet. I made the necessary calls, picked up the twins and held them each with they cried and fought the tears the whole time. It wasn't until I saw Gail at the airport that I lost it, breaking down in the front seat of the Jeep I had inherited from Claire. _

That was almost two months ago and she had been an absolute rock during the funeral and moving, in the way that only Gail could, never once hesitating to put me in my place when I started feeling sorry for myself.

Refilling her wine glass with the last of the bottle, I tucked my feet beneath me and smiled at my friend, hiding a laugh at her retelling of Dov's exploits on shift that day.

"Okay, spill it." Her lighthearted tale had ended and she was giving me her infamous 'I'm Gail Peck and you are going to tell me what I want to know' stare that I knew for a fact scared men two times her size.

Pursing my lips, I drained the last of my wine, weighing my words carefully. Either tell her what had happened with Sam, the same fluttering of old feelings that had come rushing back almost instantly or avoid it…

"The twins asked about you." It was cowardly, I know, but I couldn't talk about Sam, not yet.

"That is low Andy McNally and you know it." Her eyes were narrowed and voice accusing but a small smile played on her lips. "How are they?"

"They are doing wonderfully, thriving even, though they miss you. They will be up for spring break and again over the summer. Logan said to tell you that he fully intends of beating you in Death Domain this time and Laura made me promise that you would take her shopping." Leaving my siblings in Vancouver when I returned had been one of the hardest decisions I had ever had to make, but I needed to come back, to try and make sense of what I had left behind. More upheaval was the last thing they had needed at this point and they had stayed on at their private high school as boarders, the generous trust fund from Claire more than covering tuition until they were set to graduate.

"Well, I will be happy to shop with my favorite fifteen year old, god knows you can't do it." The slight dig was given with Gail's usual flippant attitude, although her eyes sparkled with mirth. My wardrobe choices had been a long standing point of frustration with my very stylish friend, and she took every chance she could to remind me of that fact.

"You know, just for that, you can sleep on the couch." Jumping up, I gathered the empty bottles as well as the now warm dessert from the table and deposited the whole mess in the trash can.

"Bullshit, I'll stay in Laura's room. Make sure you set the coffee maker, I don't even want to deal with you without caffeine in the morning." With that she was gone, bounding up the stairs and into one of the three spare rooms, the door shutting resoundingly behind her. Laughing under my breath, I finished cleaning up the last of the dishes and, as instructed, set the auto alarm on the coffee pot before turning off the lights and heading to bed myself. The house was cool and quiet, the light wind blowing outside the window the only noise other than the familiar settling of the house around me as I crawled into my bed. The wine helped me slip into an easy sleep, though couldn't ward off the dark eyes or familiar smile that had haunted my dreams for the last three years, or the feelings that had seemed to rush back in an instant as soon as I saw them again today.


End file.
